


Drowning Sorrows

by junko



Series: Written in the Scars (of Our Hearts) [8]
Category: Bleach
Genre: M/M, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-30
Updated: 2013-05-30
Packaged: 2017-12-13 10:36:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/823314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junko/pseuds/junko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Captains Kyouraku and Ukitake had hoped to cheer Byakuya up while Renji was away in the Human World.  Instead, they end up invited to dinner with the dreaded Auntie Massey... and Byakuya gets closer to finding out what evidence Masama has over Renji.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drowning Sorrows

When a serving girl set a plate of wasabi shumai down, Byakuya almost asked her to take them back. Renji could never eat anything this spicy. But, then he remembered. Renji wasn’t here.

It seemed everyone else was. This was, in fact, one of the largest dinner parties Byakuya had had in a long while.

As Captain Ukitake looked on, Captain Kyōraku leaned across the low table to flirtatiously fill Aunt Masama’s sake bowl. She seemed completely taken with Shunsui, the way her hand rested delicately against her chest and her gaze fluttered down shyly. Looking at her like this, with her silvery white hair down in long, straight locks, Byakuya could almost imagine how beautiful she must have been in her youth. Truthfully, she was beautiful still, looking, as she did, like female version of Captain Ukitake, which might explain Shunsui’s solicitousness… if he wasn’t that way with everyone.

In fact, soon enough, Kyōraku had turned his bombastic charm to Byakuya, and was offering more sake. “Come, drown your sorrows, poor boy! That’s what every man should do in the absence of his lover!”

Beside Byakuya, aunt Masama choked.

Ukitake patted her back softly, “Yes, be careful, Lady Kuchiki. The dumplings are very hot. One bite cleared my sinuses.”

“I doubt it was the dumplings that did our poor lady in,” Kyōraku said. “I suspect she doesn’t approve of Mr. Renji.”

Byakuya tried to give Ukitake and Kyōraku a glare that implied that his love life really ought to be off-limits in general, but very specifically not discussed in front of his family. Why had Byakuya thought inviting these two to dinner was a good idea? Ukitake alone might have been all right, but Kyōraku cheerfully threw accelerant into any fire.

“Of course I don’t approve of him,” Aunt Massey snapped once she’d caught her breath. But, then she looked around at the company as though trying to find an ally. Her eyes settled on Kyōraku. “Shunsui, you’re one of us, you must understand my… hesitation.”

Seeking to find a way to have Renji killed was hesitation, was it? Byakuya should hate to imagine her striking mercilessly. He considered making a comment to that regard, but, instead, he offered another dumpling to Ukitake before taking one himself, preferring to stay out of this conversation as long as possible. 

If they wished to talk around him, Byakuya would let them. 

“I’m not sure why you keep looking to me as one of yours, lady,” Shunsui said in an unusually serious tone. He tipped back his hat to catch her in a surprisingly intense, penetrating gaze. “If I’m any of a kind, it’s Mr. Renji’s. I’m a soldier, and have been every day of my life for over two thousand years. A warrior cares nothing for the accident of one’s birth. We’re all the same on the battlefield. Skill, intellect, and courage decide a warrior’s fate! Which would you prefer as a bodyguard, dear lady: one with a perfect pedigree or a perfect score in marksmanship?”

Aunt Massey waved away Kyōraku’s response as though it were trivial, “But, Shunsui-dear, be serious a moment. Soldiering is a fine profession for anyone, but it isn’t what defines a person. Perhaps all things are equalized in the heat of the fight, but, at the end of the day, when the swords are put away, you can’t expect a lion to lay down with a pig.”

Pig, eh? At least she hadn’t gone for the obvious ‘dog,’ Byakuya thought as he took a sip of Kyōraku’s family label--a little fruity for Byakuya’s taste, but rich and robust. Hmmm, a bit like the man himself.

Kyōraku laughed, “You make us sound like different species!”

“Well, aren’t we?” Masama sniffed, nibbling on a dumpling. “Those miserable creatures from the Rukongai are used, recycled souls; we were born just once in the Court of Pure Souls.”

“I’m not sure I’d call anyone ‘used,’” Ukitake said cautiously. “That sounds as though the process of reincarnation diminishes a life. The truth couldn’t be more opposite! Experiences gained in each lifetime strengthens a spirit.”

Aunt Masama pursed her lips. “Strength? Tsk, you shinigami are all alike with your obsession with raw power! Are you forgetting that so many of those dirty beasts in the Rukongai are reborn Hollows?”

Byakuya glanced up at that. Of course, he’d been dimly aware of that. After all, Hollows weren’t killed by zanpakutō, but, instead, were ‘sublimated,’ returned into the great balance. Some went elsewhere, but some, presumably, would in fact be reborn into the Soul Society as something… but as human? 

Why had he heard nothing of this? A soul that had once been a Hollow would be innately powerful and very hungry—a prime candidate to become a shinigami. 

“Has it occurred to you, madam, that ‘pure’ souls die as easy as any other?” Kyōraku asked with a laugh. He lifted his sake bowl in Byakuya’s direction in a kind of salute, “Ha! Now there’s a thought, eh, Mr. Byakuya? What if your Mr. Renji were actually a reborn soul of your great-great-great-grandfather!?”

“Perish the thought!” Aunt Masama shrilled. “Our family would never sink so low!”

Renji? Once a Hollow? He was already enough of an insatiable demon. “Yes,” Byakuya said, “Gods forbid.”

A servant came to remove the appetizer plates and bring in a first course. Ukitake smiled appreciatively as he watched her deftly deposit the large pot of imoni, a traditional autumn one bowl meal of potatoes and pork. Ironically, Byakuya thought: ‘peasant’ food. The thick stew was sort of thing that might simmer over a cooking fire for days on an outdoor fire, shared by many.

Many hungry, lost souls.

Like Renji?

Having doled out a bowl of soup, Byakuya glanced up at Ukitake and offered it to him, “Is this true, Taicho? Do some Hollows return to the Soul Society as Rukongai souls? What of Hueco Mundo?”

Ukitake smiled embarrassedly and rubbed the back of his neck, “Well, I’m hardly an expert in spirituality, Byakuya, but don’t you think only the truly recalcitrant souls should be forced into the downward spiral of Hueco Mundo?”

“And, it’s a rare, utterly unredeemable soul that ends up in Hell,” Kyōraku nodded in agreement. 

“It never occurred to you did it?” Aunt Masama asked coolly, “That that man of yours could be a demon?”

Byakuya snorted a little laugh and fought down a blush. “Actually, that, my lady aunt, had. However, I’m far more curious about Hollow reincarnation.” He turned back to the two captains, and, after ladling a second bowl, which he handed to Kyōraku, asked, “Shouldn’t we be able to tell when a former Hollow comes through processing?”

Ukitake coughed a little. Kyōraku grimaced as he accepted the stew. But Kyōraku managed a wan smile as he said, “You should really be talking to the Twelfth about these matters, my boy. They’re in charge of district assignments.”

Dear gods, they were?

Byakuya felt like a fool. How was it he’d graduated Academy, become a captain of the Gotei, and lived so long without ever absorbing the implications of any of this!? And, how was it that his aunt, who’s only experiences were in a sheltered, exclusive part of the Seireitei, knew so much more than he did? Byakuya turned his attention to his aunt, as he poured a bowl of stew for her. “Tell me, my dear aunt, what’s his name?”

She took the bowl from Byakuya with surprise, “Who?”

“Your secret lover at Academy or the Twelfth Division,” Byakuya said. Then, he stopped, nearly jerking the stew from her hands when realization hit, “No, of course! It’s Miisho, my Third Seat. He’s the one who’s fostered all this fear mongering rubbish.”

“Well, it’s not exactly fear mongering,” Ukitake said with a tug on his ear.

“It is, if it’s an attempt to smear Renji’s reputation,” Byakuya explained to Ukitake. To, his aunt, Byakuya said, “His power frightens you, so you can only imagine that it must come from some horrible source. If it were any other way, you would be forced to accept that souls from the Rukongai can sometimes evolve to be as powerful as us.”

“I don’t need to imagine, Byakuya-chan, I know,” Aunt Masama hissed. “I have _proof_.”

Keeping his voice even and controlled, Byakuya asked, “Proof of what?”

“That your beloved Rukongai mutt is a corrupted Hollow’s soul that should have been sent straight to Hell!” she announced triumphantly.

“Oh, now, now!” Kyōraku admonished, “That’s a little harsh! Not exactly genteel dinner conversation I’d expect from a Kuchiki!”

“Indeed,” Ukitake agreed, helping himself to a little rice that had come in one of the baskets. “Besides, all Rukongai soul records are sealed and buried deep in a hidden location. Moreover, they’re encrypted. There should be no way for you--or anyone--to trace the history of a single soul. It’s forbidden.”

Byakuya watched his aunt carefully. Her eyes dropped at the mention of the illegality of obtaining soul records. Had they done this? Had she and his Third Seat somehow stolen and decrypted the soul records of Renji’s history? Why would they have gone after such information? Aunt Masama clearly hated this relationship to an unreasonable extent, but wasn’t this beyond extreme—to commit a crime to prove what people already knew, that Renji was from the Rukongai and not a pure soul?

Though, perhaps, Miisho may have come across something unintentionally. Or, in his greed, was actively searching for blackmail material, in general. Byakuya supposed that if Miisho somehow had acquired a whole bundle of records it might explain his hesitance with the tea houses. Perhaps he had more than Renji’s information—perhaps he had Hisana’s and Rukia’s, too—or any number of others. 

This might be an answer of a sort, but none of it made any sense in terms of the fraternization charge. 

Byakuya shook his head. “If this is the so-called proof you’ve been flaunting, it’s weak. I don’t understand why any of this should matter. If Renji was once a Hollow or not, that’s a burden for his soul to bear, not mine.”

“Is it?” Aunt Masama asked primly. 

Ukitake and Kyōraku exchanged a look. Noticing their secret glance made Byakuya frown. Now what secret piece of information did they have that he did not? What other nuance was he failing to grasp? 

Byakuya opened his mouth to ask, when Kyōraku spoke right over him. “You know, speaking of Mr. Renji, my Nano-chan has a beef with him! He’s left her in charge of the Women’s Association’s Soccer Tournament.”

“Oh, I suspect she just took it over from him,” Ukitake said with a broad wink and smile at Byakuya.

“Ha!” Kyōraku laughed, “Well, it is true that her motto is, ‘If you want something done right, just let me do it!’”

“If she didn’t do something in your division, no one would, my darling.” Ukitake said.

“True enough!” Kyōraku boomed happily.

Ukitake made another comment explaining the up-coming soccer tournament to aunt Masama and they went back and forth until all chance to return to the original subject was lost. But every once in a while, as the evening continued on, Aunt Masama would smile darkly into her sake cup or give a furtive, but wicked glance at Byakuya.

Byakuya was never more grateful when aunt Masama excused herself to retire for the evening, complaining that the stew had given her a stomach ache. She accepted a farewell embrace from Kyōraku and a bow from Ukitake. Byakuya feigned a peck on the cheek and happily released her into Eishirō’s care.

“The gentlemen are staying on a while yet,” Byakuya announced to Eishirō before Ukitake and Kyōraku could attempt an escape. “Bring up dessert and a bottle of my personal label, if it’s matured.”

“Yes, my lord.”

As soon as the door slid shut, Byakuya turned to the two captains, who had stood in order to say their goodbyes to the lady. They huddled together, Kyōraku slightly behind the shorter Ukitake. Kyōraku gave an exaggerated shiver and put his hands on Ukitake’s shoulders as though to steady himself, “Oh, those eyes! Dear Mr. Byakuya, you would do us harm!” 

“You know something,” Byakuya said simply. “Tell me.”

“We know a lot of things,” Kyōraku laughed, tilting his hat back, his eyes twinkling merrily. “You’ll need to be a bit more specific.”

They did know a lot of things, the two of them. It was a wonder they didn’t secretly run the entire Soul Society between them.

“Something perhaps you don’t know,” Byakuya began, not moving from his position in front of the exit, “Is that my lady aunt has threatened Renji’s life. She claims to have proof that Renji has ‘sullied’ me in some way through our liaison. How can this be so? Does it have something to do with Renji’s possible soul history?”

“Oh,” Ukitake said with a concerned crinkle of his dark eyebrows, “You’d better sit down.”

Kyōraku whistled. Releasing Ukitake’s shoulders, he dipped his head, hiding his face in shadow. “You’re going to tell him? Well, well! We’re going to need more than one bottle.”

“I can send for the entire cellar, if you wish, but I must know,” Byakuya said. Letting the tension that had been building in his shoulders drop a little in relief that he might finally understand the extent of the threat hanging over them, he moved to join the captains around the remains of the dinner. 

Kyōraku stretched his body out on the floor and, once Ukitake had settled cross-legged, used Ukitake’s thigh as a pillow. He tipped his hat to hide his face, and clasped his hands on his chest, as though settling in for a post-meal nap.

Ukitake gave Byakuya a long look. Then, he stacked and straightened a few of the empty containers on the tea tray, before speaking. “Did your family insist on a purification ritual for Hisana or Rukia?”

“Of course,” Byakuya said, feeling his skin crawl at that word ‘purification’ suddenly. “It’s traditional, but it’s meaningless, is it not? Beyond the metaphorical, I mean. I always thought it was more like a welcoming to the Court of Pure Souls than any kind of real spell or kidō.”

Under his hat Kyōraku snorted. 

Ukitake smiled wanly, “Yes, well, as Shunsui is implying, its meaning and purpose are matter of great debate. Though, as you say, the purification rite is very, very old, and, if sources are to be believed, there are elements of konsō in it and it is very similar to one that happens when human souls first pass through to the Soul Society.”

“None of which may be necessary,” Kyōruku muttered.

“Let me tell the story first, dear, then we can get into your theories,” Ukitake admonished fondly. “The idea behind the additional purification rite is that some believe ‘sublimation,’ the act of slaying a Hollow and returning its soul to the great balance, isn’t enough. Its darkness, if you will, is shattered by the zanpakutō and scatters, but, instead of reforming into a truly new soul, lies dormant. Some believe these Hollow particles can be reawakened through a process called ‘hollowification.’ Which…” Ukitake added with a frown, “Appears to be true, at least on some level.”

The servant came in to remove the plates and lay out the fresh bottle. Kyōraku smoothly pulled himself upright to take the bottle from her hands. Ukitake’s eyes brightened at the large tray of confection. There were a variety of mitarashi dango, smothered in sticky sauce.

“Of course not all souls from the Rukongai have Hollow dust inside them. Some are humans from beginning to end,” Ukitake continued, as Kyōraku busied himself with opening the sake. “But, when a soul was… er, joined with a purer soul, the purification rite was seen as a precaution.”

Since Ukitake paused to take one of the sweets, Byakuya asked, “Against what?”

“Ah! You’ve hit the heart of the controversy,” Kyōraku said, but after getting a glare from Ukitake, Kyōraku let out a hearty laugh, “But I’ll let Jūshirō tell you!”

“Reiatsu loss,” Ukitake said simply, around a bite of dango. “It was believed, particularly by those in certain noble houses, that a soul that was formerly a Hollow was so hungry, food alone wouldn’t satisfy it. They thought it would diminish the strength of those it came in…” he coughed a little, and then triggered an attack.

After patting him on the back and handing him a bowl of sake, Kyōraku continued to rub Ukitake’s back as he finished for him, “Sexual contact with.”

Byakuya could feel the blood drain from his face, “What?”

Kyōraku laughed at Byakuya’s hissing outburst, “Yes! You see! This is where I call bull! Oh, the filthy minds of our ancestors, Mr. Byakuya! You’d never believe the sorts of diagrams found in the ancient scrolls showing how an orgasm makes a pure soul more vulnerable, and all the pornographic drawings—which I diligently poured over for hours--of Hollow-humans sucking various parts of a shinigami’s soul out!”

“Yet, you said it wasn’t fear mongering,” Byakuya pointed out.

Ukitake found his voice, “That’s because it’s possible there’s some truth to it--think of the Hollowification. There is, it seems, a way to draw out that dormant part in a soul. But, I tend to agree with Shunsui in that, if there’s any danger at all, the type of contact shouldn’t make any difference.”

Byakuya accepted the bowl of sake Kyōraku handed him. “So you think it’s true? You think that Renji’s contact has diminished me?”

Ukitake shook his head. “I don’t know. I doubt it, but there exists a small possibility.”

“Ah, such rubbish! It’s just another way to separate us,” Kyōraku said, settling back to lounge on the floor, “To keep the Rukongai souls weak and in their place.”

“Weak?” Byakuya asked curiously. “Are you saying the purification rite weakens them somehow?”

Kyōraku flashed Ukitake an ‘oopsie’ look before hiding under his hat again. After giving Kyōraku a grimace, Ukitake said, “That much does seem certain. Because it contains elements of the konsō, the soul… loosens a little, becomes less coherent.”

“But Rukia and Hisana both went through this!” Byakuya’s grip on his sake bowl was dangerously strong. “Hisana,” Byakuya repeated as the possible ramifications sunk in deeper. “Tell me, Taicho, this had nothing to do with her illness!”

Ukitake paled, but his gaze remained steady. “I can’t tell you one way or the other. I don’t know what killed her.”

She wasted away.

It was though her body consumed itself.

Byakuya shook his head, unwilling to believe that something his family had insisted on had killed Hisana. He knew that, because of the intimate nature of their work, she’d been required to be purified because her clients would have insisted on it.

Had twice been too much? Had her soul begun to unravel?

Byakuya couldn’t think about that now. It was too horrible to imagine. “Can it be undone? Can Rukia’s soul be… re-tightened?”

“I don’t know,” Ukitake said. “I’m sorry, Byakuya, I really don’t know. I’ve heard that possibly the Shiba clan knows of a method. There are accusations floating around they’ve been using their ‘reverse purification’ to strengthen certain souls in the Rukongai, but Kukaku denies it. She says that the only people who tinker with souls are the Twelfth.”

It all came back to that hideous division, Byakuya thought. 

“So things have been exciting around here, eh?” Kyōraku asked. “Your aunt has a few issues with Mr. Renji’s birth place, does she?”

“A few,” Byakuya said dryly, taking a sip of the sake. 

“But you two, you left on good terms?” Ukitake asked in a way that made Byakuya glance up. Indeed, in Ukitake’s eye there was that gleam of paternal… disapproval. “It’s just that when he came around a week or so ago, I noticed he was bruised.”

“And you think I did that?”

“Did you?”

The difficult part was that the initial response that popped into Byakuya’s head was to say, it would depend on when you saw him and which bruises you meant. A sobering moment, and one that caused a flush to rise up his neck. “We’re working out our differences,” Byakuya said honestly. “I’ve made a few mistakes. I’m hoping to correct them with a liberal application of old-fashioned courting, and Renji’s allowed it.”

“Oh ho!” Kyōraku hooted. “Excellent! A sweeping, long-distance romance! Yes, yes, this is an excellent idea of yours, Mr. Byakuya. You must tell me your plans.”

Byakuya was happy to answer Kyōraku, particularly since Ukitake was still giving him a disappointed look. “I’ve been writing letters. I plan to send a gift or two. With some luck, I should be able to surprise him with a visit.”

Kyōraku considered this seriously. “And poetry, right? Oh, no, it was Mr. Renji who was the poet.” He chewed on a finger for a moment before gesturing broadly, “Hmm, you need something splashier, my man. Something… big.”

Ukitake was smiling at his partner now at least, “Not everyone’s a showman like you are, my love.”

“Ah, but you have to admit my methodology is has well stood the test of time! Romance, my dear boy,” Kyōraku said to Byakuya, “Is the key. If you can find out how to romance a man, you can have him forever.”

“Hmph,” Ukitake gave a faux pout, “You make me sound easy.”

“Only because you’re easy to love,” Kyōraku smiled, leaning over to kiss Ukitake boldly.

Byakuya knew that to be polite he should look away, but he found himself smiling at the sight of these two. Kyōraku grabbed hold on to his hat in order that it not topple from his head, while Ukitake caught a handful of his own long white hair to keep it from spilling in front of his face. The moves were clearly a combination of practiced and spontaneous in a way that charmed Byakuya. It was truly amazing to think how long the two captains been together, and how much they clearly still loved each other.

Ukitake looked breathless when they parted, and Kyōraku gave Byakuya a wink, “I’m sure you’ll think of something. Love always finds a way! Letters are very sweet and deeply sensual. I think Mr. Renji will appreciate knowing you’re thinking of him so often.”

“Yes,” Byakuya said, finding a perfect way to end the evening, “I’ve promised myself I’d write him every night. I should probably try to do so before I’ve consumed too much sake to do so properly and the night slips away from us.”

“Ah, yes, time to go, Jūshirō,” Kyōraku laughed. “But, you must let me take this bottle with me. It’s only just opened! It would go to waste otherwise!”

“But, of course,” Byakuya said, standing. “Please think of it as a gesture of my appreciation. It was very kind of you both to think of me.”

Ukitake looked touched, and laid a hand on Byakuya’s shoulder after he’d risen to his feet. “Oh, it was our pleasure, Byakuya. I’m only sorry your aunt is causing you so much trouble. Please let us know if there’s anything we can do to help.”

Byakuya bowed, “Your generosity honors me.”

Ukitake seemed a little taken aback by such a serious and humble gesture, but he smiled bashfully. “Oh! Yes, well, you’re very welcome!”

As they left, Byakuya could hear Kyōraku mutter as they moved down the hallway, “Hmph, that boy really has changed.”

“Yes,” Ukitake said, “If his lover brings him down, it’s a good sort of down.”

**Author's Note:**

> I was going to attach a Renji POV section at the end of this, but the tone is such a dramatic shift that I decided to break these in two. Bonus? I have a bunch already written on that and may be able to post again sooner rather than later. 
> 
> Thanks go to Josey (cestus) for her typo checking. Once again, without her, we'd all be eating desert.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Red Dog (Blue Cat)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2162274) by [Cerberus_Brulee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cerberus_Brulee/pseuds/Cerberus_Brulee)




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